


a spell gone wack

by smudgythoughts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Familiars, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Witch Castiel, yes - both is good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smudgythoughts/pseuds/smudgythoughts
Summary: Cas' quest to get a familiar has some unexpected results, involving his adorably confused and pissed off boyfriend.





	a spell gone wack

**Author's Note:**

> I was so happy when I learned that I got you for the exchange, miggs, and with you asking for witch!cas on top of that?!!? I couldn't have asked for a better prompt. hope you enjoy!
> 
> beta-ed by Jennifer/wargurl83 on late notice, much thanks!!

All Dean wants is a cup of coffee. Any coffee would do, even the shitty kind like his brother used to prepare before Dean banned Sam from ever making coffee.

Because of his nightmares, he hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a while. Instead, he ends up tossing and turning all night. When Dean straggles out of bed that morning he finds that the kitchen has been completely overtaken by his roommate. His roommate—and maybe something something more, if he wasn’t such a coward—is a witch. He doesn’t have a pointy hat, though. Dean’s asked him.

And Dean's supported Cas in his witch-y endeavours up until now. But having plants up in every inch of space in the apartment is just too far. There’s leafy-looking things growing up from the edge of the counter to their stove. And vines trailing up from the floor. And purple flowers dotting the backsplash. 

Cas is an insomniac, he knows this. Some nights Dean will wake up in cold sweat from his nightmares and go get himself a glass of water and find Cas on their couch, bleary-eyed and reading yet _another_ book on witchcraft, insisting he can’t sleep until he’s perfected a spell to help their sweet old neighbor who’s been dealing with a hacking cough. Dean also knows that he’s had a shitty night’s sleep, and his classes start in an hour, and he just wants some coffee, and the coffeemaker is currently covered with pointy, ugly yellow flowers that look like they could kill him if they so choose.

“This is the last straw,” Dean mutters to himself. He storms over and bangs on the bathroom door—Cas acts like he always has to have a shower at precisely 7:32 or the world’s going to end. “Get out here, Cas,” he says over the loud sprinkle of the shower. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“Dean, I’m kind of… in the middle of something,” Cas says through the door.

“Come out anyway or I’ll… I’ll kick you out,” Dean hollers back. He doesn’t mean it, of course.

There’s some frustrated grumbling, and then a minute later the bathroom door opens and Cas steps out, his dark hair a wet mop. There’s a towel wrapped around his hips, just low enough that Dean can see the peek of his hipbones, and his chest is bare. Dean stares at him, mouth half-open, eyes flickering over the miles of wet skin, and then he swallows and says, “I’m angry at you.”

Cas blinks. “I’m sorry the coffeemaker was covered up by mandrakes, but I made you an extra cup before they spread too far, and I can heat it up with a quick spell, if you’d prefer.” Dean huffs, crossing his arms, making it clear that he's still angry. Cas continues, “And I know you’re germaphobic, Dean, but I promise I’ll clean up the kitchen later today. I know I usually clean up my witch practices before you wake up, but there was just no time between after finishing up the spell and starting my shower.”

“A what? I’m not a–that’s not the point,” Dean says, pausing to shover a finger in Cas’ beautifully sculpted face to make it clear that is _not the point_. “You’re always making a mess, always leaving your witch-y books on the coffee table so I don’t have a place to put up my feet, or leaving your slippers in the hallway for me to trip over.”

“Really? Because it’s sounding like your desire for everything to be clean is—”

“It’s not!”

Cas pauses, his face going slack, and when he talks again his voice is laced with concern, “Dean, are you alright?”

“I’m tired,” he admits, weakly, dropping his head, folding in on himself. “I have class in an hour, and I’m just–I’m so tired. You were the closest thing to yell at and I just, I—”

Cas reaches forward and pulls him into a hug, and Dean lets him, doesn’t even mind that Cas is wet, because Dean needs this, needs him. Dean sighs into the embrace, his arms loosening, legs going like jelly as if Cas is holding him up. Dean whispers into the curve of Cas’ neck, “What were all those plants for, anyway?”

“You,” Cas says simply.

Dean pulls away to look at Cas, Dean’s hands loose on Cas’ shoulders. Cas’ blue eyes are watching him intently, his eyelashes wet and clumped together. His breath puffs warmly against Dean’s face. They’re close enough that it would be oh so easy for them to kiss. “What are you talking about?” Dean asks.

“I know how much you don’t like your nightmares, from when your mom died, how scared you are of going to sleep at night, how tired you are during the day, and I… I made something to keep them away. I don’t know if it’ll work, it’s a rather difficult spell, and it’s what I’ve been working on for the last couple of months, but hopefully it’ll at least lessen the pain.”

The words catch up to Dean’s brain, and—because he’s an impulsive, lovesick person who just found out the person he’s been pining for for years spent tiredless months working on a spell for him—then he blurs out, “I love you. I wanna kiss you. Can I kiss you?” Cas blinks, then nods. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Then they’re kissing, just a quick peck, the gentle press of their lips together, but it's more than enough for Dean. Dean pulls back and grins at Cas, and Cas grins back, then goes and takes Dean’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and Dean doesn’t know if your face can hurt from smiling too much, but he supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

“Why don’t you skip class, just this once,” Cas says. “Let me take you out on a date.”

“Okay,” Dean agrees, smiling. And, for once, everything feels like it’s going to be alright.

 

 

When—two years after they’d met, a year and eleven months after Dean learned Cas was a witch, and a few months after they started dating—Castiel told Dean he was going to introduce Dean to his “coven”, Dean didn’t really know what to expect. It certainly wasn’t this—three college students crowding around him in one of their parents’ basement.

Cas starts listing them off. “First off there’s Alicia Banes–” A black woman gives a little wave, her smile wide. “And her twin, Max. Don’t be put-off if he flirts with you, that’s just how he makes friends.” The man winks. He’s wearing a Black Panther T-shirt. Dean likes both of them already.

“Is my boyfriend saying that you flirted with him?” Dean asks Max, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Only before you guys were together,” Max says. “Though it’s a good thing you made your move a few weeks ago, because if you hadn’t I would’ve snatched him up.”

Dean turns back to Cas, reaching down to hold his hand and squeeze it lightly. “If it came down to a contest between me and this guy, you would’ve chosen me, right babe?”

His answer comes immediately. “Of course Dean,” Cas says, so sincerely that it makes his heart ache.

Dean blinks, off-kilter fro the intensity of his answer. “That’s– that’s umm, that’s good,” he stutters. “I’m glad that you, ah–”

“I would choose you over anyone,” Cas says. “You’re my favorite person.” And what did you say to _that_? Cas smiles, gently nudging their shoulders together.

“Oh, and this is Hannah,” Cas says, saving Dean from saying something that would have embarrassed himself. Well, embarrassed himself _further_. “Hannah uses they/them pronouns, by the way." With a nod of his head, Cas indicates someone with short dark hair, who smiles shyly at Dean.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to your pronouns,” Dean promises. Back in Kansas the amount of not-straight people he knew was a grant total of two—himself and his friend Charlie, who he’s still maintained a close friendship with—but after being at college he’s met loads of queer and gender non-conforming people, and each interaction makes him more glad where the world's at, that others are comfortable, and he can be this comfortable with himself.

Dean looks around the basement again. It’s about as big as his bedroom back home, which isn’t saying much. There’s a lumpy, bright green couch to the one side, and a makeshift bar to the other, and that’s it. “Now I hope you guys aren’t offended, but is this it? Just the four of you?”

“Well then there’s also Rowena,” Alicia says. “Though she’s not here often, as ah–”

“She thinks she’s better than us,” Max supplies. When Alicia shoots her brother a Look, he only shrugs. “I’m only stating the truth.”

“Rowena comes here occasionally to–ah, impart her knowledge on us,” Hannah pipes up. “Then she leaves. I don’t think she likes us. Or anyone.”

“She’s an asshole,” Cas says. Dean bits his bottom lip, impressed. If Cas said you were an asshole, then you really _were_ an asshole.

“So how’d you guys get started?” Dean asks.

“Well I discovered that I had an innate magic ability, same as my brother, and then when I saw the ad on Craigslist for starting a coven for an area, I went to check it out,” Alicia says.

Dean’s eyebrows rise up. “Wait, a Craigslist ad?”

“Yes. I was the one to send one out,” Hannah says.

Dean turns an incredulous look on Cas. “Wait, you found these guys through a Craigslist ad? Don’t you know that’s an easy way to get murdered by a serial killer?”

“I can handle myself,” Cas says, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at Dean as if daring him to argue.

“I know you can, babe,” Dean’s quick to agree. Cas hasn’t yet tried to throw a spell at Dean for making him upset, but he wouldn’t put it past him.

 

 

“Your girlfriend... is an owl. How does that, uh—” Dean doesn’t trust himself to ask more.

The owl perched on Alicia’s lap—talons holding onto her thigh—gives a hostile flutter of her wings, her orange eyes dilating slightly, which Dean supposes is owl for _fuck you_.

A shimmering mist falls over the owl, a beacon of purple light erupts from within the mist, then there’s a woman perched on Alicia’s lap. She has dark, wavy hair down to her shoulders, is scowling, and she’s wearing clothes—a leather jacket over a purple blouse and jeans—which Dean doesn’t understand but is thankful for. “Fuck you,” she snarls out.

Alicia brings two hands around to wrap around the woman—probably so she doesn’t fall off, and says, “Meg isn’t an owl, not really. She’s my familiar, and can shift between her owl form and her given human one.”

“So she’s like… a pet that can shapeshift?” Dean asks, confused. Meg’s glare on him goes nuclear, and Dean immediately regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, but hey, he’s just trying to understand.

“No, no, we’re equals,” Alicia quickly says. “When Meg is in her owl form she creates this sort of… energy that I can harvest and use to strengthen my spells, but it is freely given. And when she’s not helping me out she can go anywhere she pleases. She’s a student at the college, actually.”

“Huh.” Dean turns and catches his boyfriend’s eye from where he’s chatting it up with Max and Hannah across the room. “Hey, you don’t have a secret bat or something you’re keeping from me, right?” He calls over.

“No,” Cas yells back.

Dean turns back to Alicia and Meg, putting a hand over his chest and sighing, faking relief.

His heart drops to his stomach when Cas continues, “At least, not yet.”

 

 

It’s taken Castiel months to find the ingredients, but he’s finally done it, along with Alicia's help. The coven went out for some pizza, so thankfully there's no one around to see Dean worry and fret. “Are you sure this is gonna work, babe?”

“Not in the least,” Cas says. “I’ve never tried to call up a familiar before, and I’ve heard stories of it resulting in a wild animal that tries to kill you, or something worse.”

“Well that’s reassuring.” Dean sighs and slaps a palm over his face. _Why is my boyfriend so dumb?_

“But if this results in me getting a familiar, then I think it’s worth it. There’s a slew of high-level spells that can only be done with the help of a familiar.”

Dean lets out an even larger sigh at that. “Well, I know you’re gonna do this whether I say you can or not, so I might as well be here in case I have to take your reckless ass to the hospital.”

“Just say you have no faith in me, why don’t you, Dean.”

“No, I have… all the faith, babe.” Dean smiles, reaching forward and dropping a kiss on Cas’ cheek, because love has made him a nerd. Then he steps away, giving Cas space.

Cas spreads out his hands, palms facing the collection of bones of dead animals arrayed in a circle on the table—the basement's coffee table—in front of him. He mutters something quickly in Latin, and he sounds so fluent, and hot, that it has Dean raising an eyebrow, impressed.

A blue light emits from Cas’ palms in a searing blaze of light that quickly becomes so bright that Dean has to narrow his eyes to mere slits, and then even the peek of light is too fierce, and he’s forced to put his hands over his eyes. Then it’s over as quickly as it began, dying to a dull ember.

“Is it safe to look?” Dean asks. “No tiger sitting next to me, waiting to eat me alive?”

“Yes, it’s safe,” Cas says shortly. If Dean wasn’t mistaken, he’d say Cas sounded disappointed.

Dean removes his hands and blinks, eyes immediately falling on the collection of bones that now have scorch marks on them, smoke pooling off of them. One of the feathers is completely blackened. Cas is staring owlishly down at his hands, unblinking.

“I’m sorry this didn’t work," Dean says gently. "I know how much this meant to you.”

Cas sighs. “Well, I suppose I can try again another day. Why don’t we go pick up a pie, to end this day on a high note?”

 

 

Hours later he finds himself curled up on the couch in their apartment, Cas curled into his side and a box of apple pie open out in front of him. It's funny, their habits haven't changed that much since they started dating, they still get to cuddle and watch TV together, and Dean doesn't know why they didn't do it sooner. Seeing Cas be this happy is an added bonus, as well as them getting to make out.

Cas is flipping through the channels while Dean’s attention is on the pie, and he begins shoveling it into his mouth with a fork. "You know, Hannah expressed interest in joining in on Charlie's D&D campaign, I wonder what sorta character they'll show up with."

"A barbarian, definitely," Cas says, and Dean nods his agreement. Cas gets to the channel Dr. Sexy is on, and Dean mumbles “you can stop” around a mouthful of pie.

Cas rolling his eyes is that last thing Dean sees before this world tilts on its axis, and the fork slips from his hand and onto the carpet with a muffled sound.

“Dean,” Cas calls out, sounding concerned, but Dean has to prickle his ears to hear him, and his voice sounds further away. Dean looks around wildly—everything looks a little off. The TV is further away, the floor is closer to him, as if he had… shrunk. He strains his head to look at—no, _up_ at—his boyfriend. Cas is peering down at him, mouth half-open, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“What the fuck?” Dean says. Or at least,that’s what he meant to say. Instead it came out as a _meow_ , of all things. And what’s that squishy things on his hands? He looks down and sees that he’s standing in the pie tin, filling all over his… paws. His furry, orange, cat paws.

“Meow?” He says again.

 

 

Dean actually doesn’t mind being a cat. At least he isn’t expected to say anything when the witch—Rowena—looms over him, five feet of red-haired fury.

“You _what_?” Rowena asks Cas, Scottish accent thick in her anger.

“I thought it was time to conjure a familiar. So I did the whole spell—Alicia helped me set it up—and when I did it flames erupted on my hands… and then there was nothing. Until a few hours later, when Dean and I were settling in for the night at our apartment, and well,” he gestures at Dean.

Rowena sighs. “Well this is quite a way to meet your—”

“Boyfriend,” Cas fills in. He pauses to scratch under Dean’s chin and Dean lifts his head, purring, “and I think he and I would both prefer that he wasn’t stuck as a cat for the rest of his life. And his brother won’t be happy, either."

Rowena sighs, again. “Okay, I shall help you. Not out of the goodness of my heart, mind you—you’ll owe me a favor.” Dean hisses at that, his tail swinging back and forth, but when Rowena sends a glare at him he stills. “And for me to help I need to know what went wrong. So, how many cloves of ginger did you use?”

“A teaspoon.”

“And how much lemon grass?”

“Three-quarters teaspoon.” As soon as the words are out of Cas’ mouth he frowns. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’, boy. A summoning calls for four teaspoons of lemongrass, you and I and every witch this side the US knows this.”

“Sorry,” Cas says, and the look on his face makes Dean want to get up and hug him, turn his head to give him a comforting kiss on the cheek. Instead he rubs up against Cas’ side and presses his nose into his shirt, purring, hoping it conveys the same meaning. Castiel goes on, “I guess I was too wrapped up wanting a familiar that it slipped my mind.”

“And now your boyfriend is your familiar,” Rowena fills in. She stares at the both of them for a long moment before saying, “I know he wasn’t supposed to be a familiar, but I wonder…” She snaps her fingers right in Dean’s face, and he jumps away, hissing indignantly. “Dean, can you try something for me? Focus on Cas, on your love for him, and try to... push that love out towards him.”

Dean looks at her, confused, but then Castiel gives him an encouraging smile, and he decides to at least try what Rowena’s asking of him. He thinks about waking up next to Cas in the morning, now that they can both sleep well, and how gentle Cas looked in his slumber that Dean couldn't do anything but stare at him, waiting for him to wake up. And then Cas would wake with a sleepy smile, and kiss Dean gently. Dean imagines letting Cas know, truly, the depth of his feelings, how how profound and all encompassing his love is.

Cas’ eyes glow blue for a moment, and he lets out a long, slow, sigh, his eyelids fluttering. “Dean,” he gasps out. And when his eyes focus on Dean once more, it's with a look of amazement, and suddenly Dean's human again, in his worn-out boxers and AC/DC shirt, and he’s relieved, and a little bit sad too.

Rowena says, “Now, he’s your familiar, in all sense of the word, and can shift back and forth with enough practice, but if you want me to take it away, I would have to go back to my house and get a few books—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dean quickly says. His voice is rough. He turns and smiles at his boyfriend. “I don’t mind being a familiar. Especially if it makes me feel closer to you. And hey, I still haven’t learned what taking a piss as a cat feels like.”

Cas is still smiling. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say the last bit.”

“I kind of ruined the mood, didn’t I."

“A little.”

“Well how about this to fix the mood,” Dean says, and puts a hand around Cas’ neck to pulls him into a long, deep kiss.

“I’m still here,” Rowena says flatly.

Dean means to roll her eyes at her. Instead he sneezes. He looks down at the cat hair that’s somehow coating the fabric of his T-shirt. “I hope you have a spell for getting rid of cat hair, babe, because I’m still allergic to cats, familiar or not."

**Author's Note:**

> ([rebloggable link, with art!](http://harplesscastiel.tumblr.com/post/175277863930/witchcasfamiliardean-35k-teen-college-au))


End file.
